


I Want You To Get Me Dirty

by lookupkate



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Student Lestrade, Teacher Mycroft, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookupkate/pseuds/lookupkate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Punk rocker Greg Lestrade successfully seduces his professor after finding out he attends every gig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want You To Get Me Dirty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yarnjunkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnjunkie/gifts).



> For my yarnjunkie, her idea, straight out of her pervy imagination.

Greg slipped in the door and took a seat right at the back of the room. He opened his book and started to take notes as the lecture dwindled. There were only fifteen minutes left in the session and people were starting to get a bit antsy. Dr Holmes finished up the talk on attraction misattribution and took off his glasses. 

He looked Greg over. The boy was wearing his usual getup and biting his lip. Dr Holmes couldn't deny that the ripped jeans and tight band t-shirt did things to him. He glanced up at the spiky black hair and swallowed hard. 

"I expect you to finish reading the chapter and look closely at each of your personal relationships. Is it possible that someone you are attracted to is not necessarily attractive, but is instead in close proximity to you during arousing situations? Think concerts, motorcycle rides, anything that tickles your adrenal gland." He said. "You are dismissed." 

The students closed their books and started milling out. Greg wrote down a few last things and was about to leave when the professor caught his eye and waved him forward. The persistent lump in Greg's throat was back. He walked to the front of the lecture hall, moving around the last people leaving, and stood next to the podium. 

When the final student had passed through the door Dr Holmes turned to Greg with a frown. 

"This is the third time this week that you've shown up in the late minutes of my class. I'm starting to wonder why you even show up at all." He said. 

Greg felt his stomach drop and ran a hand unconsciously through his short cropped black hair. 

"I had a late night." Greg said, "I did all the reading." 

"I have late nights as well, Mr Lestrade. Yet I manage to show up on time. If this was about the reading you could just buy the book. You are wasting my time and the time of your fellow students. I suggest you drop the class." Dr Holmes said sternly. 

Greg's mouth hanged open. "I...I don't want to drop the class." He murmured. 

"I'm afraid that if you miss another session this week, doing whatever it is you do at night, you'll have to." The doctor said curtly. 

"I can make it on time. I can. Is there...any chance I could make up the time I missed?" Greg asked, leaning in close and pointedly licking his lips. 

Dr Holmes rolled his eyes and sighed. "Don't insult me." 

Greg frowned and nodded before leaving the room. 

\-----

Greg showed up on time to every other class that week. For some reason he thought that he might get Dr Holmes' attention by doing so. The professor was as cold as ever, keeping even their now common short talks after class professional. 

It was the first class of the next week that threw a wrench in Greg's plans of seducing the strange professor. He went and fell asleep in class. He woke to Dr Holmes' hand on his shoulder. He sat up and glanced around to see that all the other students had gone. Dr Holmes frowned at him. 

"I'm sorry." Greg said, wiping a bit of spittle from his chin. 

"Another long night, I take it?" Dr Holmes asked with a sudden and unexpected softening to his gaze. 

"Uh, yeah." Greg replied, not sure how to act now that the professor wasn't scowling at him. 

The doctor passed him a few pieces of paper and walked from the room. Greg flipped through them and found they were copies of the lecture. He wasn't sure what had changed to make the professor want to help him now. He couldn't think right then anyway, so he stuffed the papers in his bag and got up to walk back to his house. 

\-----

Greg could hear Sally's bass as he walked to their shared home. Anderson's drums started up a second later and he looked down at his watch to see he'd missed the beginning of practice. He cursed and ran up the steps and into the large sitting room. The rest of the band was already playing a loud punk song. 

"Greg! What the fuck took you so long?" Dimmock hollered. 

"Stuck flirting with Dr Holmes, I bet." Sally teased. 

Greg shrugged and tossed his things aside, grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge and taking a long sip. Anderson tapped out the beginning to a new song on the drums and Dimmock joined in. Soon Greg was singing and Sally was playing as well. 

\-----

The show had been a success. They'd only had a few bottles thrown at them, and the bloke that was harassing them at the beginning was thrown out before their second half. It was gigs like this that made Greg wonder if becoming a police officer was really what he wanted for his life. He picked up his final complimentary beer from the bartender and walked out the back to have a cigarette. 

The air outside was wonderfully cool on his skin and he leaned against the back wall with his eyes closed for a moment. It was so quiet out there that you could almost pretend that you weren't at a bar on a Friday night. Greg took another long pull from his beer and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Before he opened his eyes he heard the click of a lighter beside him. 

He looked to his left to find someone standing by him. The man's face was hidden by the hood of a sweatshirt. The lighter waved slowly in front of him and he nodded, pulling out one cigarette and putting it between his lips. The man held the lighter up and Greg sucked on the stick till it lit. 

"Did you see the show?" He asked after he blew the smoke from his lungs. 

The man nodded, face still turned away. 

"Did you, uh, did you like it?" He asked nervously. 

The man nodded again. 

Greg chuckled and blew a smoke ring. "You don't talk much, eh? That's alright. Plenty of people talk too much." 

After Greg was done with the cigarette and beer he hesitated. There was something about the silent man that drew him in. He wanted to know who he was, why he didn't speak. He paused as he opened the door and turned back. 

"Fancy a drink?" He asked. 

The man nodded again and followed him into the pub with his head hung. Greg got two more beers from the barkeep and joined the mystery man in the shadows at the edge of the stage. There was a new band playing, so they slumped against the wall and watched. People were jumping up and down and screaming loudly. 

"Do you come here often?" Greg asked, a little disgusted with his own cliché line. 

"I've seen every one of your shows." The man shouted. 

A chill ran down Greg's spine and turned molten in his gut. 

"I happen to like your band." The man added. 

Greg abandoned his almost full beer. He tried to pretend he hadn't recognised the voice, but he knew the man could tell. He looked up to find the man's eyes on him. 

"Are you up for a bit of rough." Greg said in that rough whisper, leaning in and pressing his lips against the taller man's neck. 

"Christ." The man murmured. 

The room seemed suddenly too hot and he wondered if he could get away with what he truly wanted. He decided to give it a try and leaned against the tall man, pressing his urgent erection into his leg. 

"Want to come back to mine?" He asked. 

Dr Holmes looked surprised and bolted from the pub. 

\-----

The next morning in class Dr Holmes wouldn't look Greg in the eye even though he was on time and sitting in the front row. The minutes seemed to pass more slowly than necessary and by the time class was dismissed Greg was desperate to talk to his professor. 

Once all the students had left Greg walked to the front and stepped in close. "I dropped your class." 

Dr Holmes looked surprised. 

"I can take it again next semester. I hear professor Mylar is good." Greg added. 

"And what was your reasoning for dropping the class?" Dr Holmes asked in a hushed voice. 

"I want to suck you. You're obviously hesitant because I'm a student. Now I'm just the lead singer of your favorite punk band." Greg all but whispered. 

Dr Holmes swallowed audibly. 

"You should come to the show tomorrow night." Greg said before turning and leaving the room. 

Dr Holmes breathed out a rough sigh and sat down. That boy was going to be the death of him. He couldn't go to the show. He just couldn't. 

\-----

After the next show Greg approached an obviously nervous Dr Holmes. He stepped in close and asked if the professor would like to come back to his. The man nodded and Greg drew back just slowly enough to see his eyes up close before turning and walking out the back. He led him around the corner to where his motorcycle was parked and passed him the helmet. 

"Your brain's more important than mine. Take it." Greg said when the professor hesitated. 

Dr Holmes smiled slightly and pulled down the hood of his sweatshirt to put the helmet on. His hair was in loose curls, obviously lacking his usual pomade. It fit perfectly with the rest of his outfit; dark jeans and motorcycle boots. Greg took a moment to appreciate the view before he hopped on the bike and told Dr Holmes to hold on tight. 

\-----

They made it to Greg's place in record time and sneaked up to Greg's room. Dr Holmes stood and looked out the window while Greg put a record on his old player. He went and sat on the bed, not sure what to do next. 

"Dr Holmes, do you want me?" Greg asked finally. 

The tall man turned and unzipped his sweatshirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the bed. Underneath he wore one of his bespoke button up shirts, the sleeves rumpled a bit. 

"Mycroft." He said, sitting next to Greg and pulling his pack of cigarettes out. 

He took one out and lit it. 

"Okay, Mycroft. Same question." Greg said, loving how the man's name felt in his mouth. 

"Yes." Mycroft replied. 

He looked away, suddenly quite embarrassed by his own honesty, and cleared his throat. 

"So, your current assignment asks you to look closely at your personal relationships and determine whether you're attracted to people because of them, or because of the situations you're put in." Mycroft said. 

"Concert in a run down pub, check. Motorcycle ride, check. More than a hint of impropriety? I think you can consider me under the influence. Would you like to take advantage?" Greg purred, suddenly much closer than he had been a second before. 

Mycroft's breath caught in his throat and he almost dropped his cigarette. Greg took it from his hand and stuck it into an open can next to the bed. Mycroft's mouth formed a perfect 'o' as Greg pushed him down. The shorter man was quickly pressing their lips together and pushing his tongue into Mycroft's mouth. 

He pulled back to unbutton the doctor's shirt, pressing rough kisses to every newly revealed bit of skin. Mycroft moaned and arched into his touch. 

"I've always wanted to take off one of these expensive shirts. Too bad you aren't wearing the full three piece suit. I have a thing for posh older men." Greg said as he unbuttoned Mycroft's jeans and pulled off his boots, the jeans and pants. 

Mycroft's cock was achingly hard and already leaking a bit at the tip. He drew in a sharp breath as Greg took him immediately into his mouth. Greg sunk down all the way, sucking and hollowing his cheeks on the way up. 

"Oh, Christ!" Mycroft shouted. 

Greg smiled around his cock and began bobbing his head quickly. Mycroft's breath was coming in quick puffs and he was trying hard not to press his hips up as the young man sucked him expertly. It was all over when Greg reached a hand forward and began fondling his bollocks. He came hard with a gasp and Greg sucked him through the aftershocks. 

Greg pulled off with a smack and moved up the doctor's body until he was straddling his chest. He unzipped his ripped jeans and pulled his cock out. Mycroft let out a little 'hah' sound as Greg started to stroke himself at a bruising pace. 

"I'm gonna come all over that pretty face of yours. I bet you'd like it if you had to go out with all your posh friends with my spunk drying on your lips." Greg said as he flicked his wrist. "I bet you want me to get you all dirty." 

Mycroft's eyes went wide. 

"Say it!" Greg demanded. 

"I-I want you to get me dirty." Mycroft murmured. 

Greg moaned and ran his thumb over the leaking head of his prick. He felt his climax rushing through him and he shot come all over the professor's face. He stroked himself slowly until every last drop had been coaxed out and then ran a sticky finger over Mycroft's bottom lip. 

"Perfect." He whispered.


End file.
